Clash of Fire
by Satipheen
Summary: After a decidedly disastrous introduction Peter is horrified to discover that one certain girl has somehow wound up in Narnia as well. Can he stop her from getting herself killed with her fiery temper and will she be able to save Peter from himself? Or will another encroaching darkness altogether get to them first? Peter/OC. Set during PC
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer; I do not own the Chronicles of Narnia

* * *

Chapter One;

Peter staggered back, his back colliding with the harsh brick wall as pain bloomed across his jaw.

Peter wiped the dribble of blood away with his sleeve as he glared darkly at the leering face of the boy towering before him.

The jeering crowd shouted incentives and insults from the side-lines, their faces having long blurred into one indistinguishable wall.

"Had enough yet?" the boy spat.

Peter's lips twisted in an ugly smirk as he lunged forward.

"Peter Pevensie! James Berrington!"

Both boys immediately broke apart, glowering at one another menacingly for another stubborn moment.

Mr Wilson approached, pushing past the fast dissipating crowd until he stood before them, arms folded angrily across his broad chest in his usual smart tweed jacket.

"Fighting – on school property again," Mr Wilson boomed, his expression absolutely livid.

"He started it," James mumbled under his breath.

Peter whipped around to face him, his eyes crackling like blue lightening, "you liar!" Peter accused suddenly.

James immediately rounded on Peter and for a moment it seemed as if the fight would recommence until…

"ENOUGH!" Mr Wilson's voice was like thunder reverberating in the two boys' ears.

"Headmaster Andrews office now!" Mr Wilson ordered, stepping to the side as his arm snapped out from his side into a rigid line perpendicular to his body, finger outstretched towards the school building a few yards away, as he glared at the two boys in cold silent fury.

Silently and with many dark looks both boys trudged up the stone steps to the school building, Mr Wilson marching behind them.

There were hushed whispers and sniggers as the two boys passed by in cold silence, uniforms dirtied and crumpled until a stern look from Mr Wilson had the culprits scuttling.

Peter clenched his jaw tighter as he thrust his chin in the air as he walked, his back straight and rigid.

He had no need to feel ashamed or belittled; he was High King Peter the Magnificent.

He had led armies to legendary battles; he was a King!

Why should he have to suffer the insults and jibes of those clearly beneath him?

However one face gave him pause as he met the familiar dark eyes already giving him a disapproving look.

Peter stifled a sigh as he passed by Edmund and caught his younger brother's almost imperceptible shake of his head.

Usually Edmund supported him when he got himself embroiled in these pointless fights, even jumped in to help him on occasion despite Peter never requiring his help.

But Edmund usually only acted out of brotherly concern in seeing his brother facing off opponents twice his stature alone rather than he actually supported Peter's reasons.

Mr Wilson marched them both into the old office.

Headmaster Andrews was a wisp of a man made to look only more tiny by the huge mahogany desk he sat behind and the grand leather armchair he was swamped in.

But his eyes were shrewd and his face wore a perpetually sour expression.

"Pardon me Sir for excusing you from your work but I caught these two fighting on school property, _again," _Mr Wilson finished meaningfully, directing a particularly malevolent look towards the two boys.

Peter stood proud, shoulders squared as he returned Mr Wilson's glare with a cool aloof stare of his own.

James was meanwhile snivelling and attempting to look contrite as the Headmaster eyed them distastefully.

Peter had to resist the urge to lash out again; seriously all these glares and demeaning looks as though _he _were beneath _them?!_

"Thank-you Mr Wilson," Headmaster Andrews intoned pointedly in that raspy voice of his.

Mr Wilson clearly did not like being so evidently dismissed, clearly he had hoped to stay and see the boy's punishment dished out to them.

It had after all been Mr Wilson who had caught them fighting last time; though there had been more boys involved.

He had received quite the black eye when he had tried to separate the boys but in the fray he couldn't be sure which of them had dealt him the punch and no one had been eager to claim responsibility.

As such the square-jawed teacher had developed a particular dislike for the boys involved but especially for Peter Pevensie.

Mr Wilson was as teachers went a particularly terrifying specimen. Towering at over six foot and being an ex-military Lieutenant he was used to boys stammering around him as they stood to attention.

What he wasn't used to and what he most certainly didn't like was Peter Pevensie.

Peter never cowered like his classmates in front of Mr Wilson or Lieutenant Wilson as he was officially called.

Peter would merely tilt his chin slightly upwards fixing the imposing man with a cool cobalt stare, inclining one eyebrow.

And what was even worse was Peter wasn't like some others who would backtalk to him.

Peter was painfully polite, impeccably courteous and yet still Mr Wilson couldn't help but feel inferior to this…this mere – _boy!_

Reluctantly Mr Wilson with one last directed glare exited the room, shutting the door with an audible thud.

There was a brief moment when the Lieutenant's voice could be heard booming, as he ordered some groups loitering outside to scatter and then all was silent in the office.

"Well Pevensie? Berrington? – What have you to say for yourselves?" Headmaster Andrews rasped into the silent room; the portraits of past Headmasters staring down solemnly at the proceedings from the walls.

"I apologise Sir for my unacceptable behaviour," James immediately mumbled, dropping his gaze to the worn floorboards.

Headmaster Andrews nodded his head sagely, before he fixed an expectant gaze on Peter.

"I apologise that James' behaviour necessitated such behaviour Sir," Peter spoke coolly.

James' brows knitted together in barely constrained anger kept only under control because of the man sat facing them.

Peter could feel James' gaze burning holes in him but he kept his gaze trained on Headmaster Andrews.

Headmaster Andrews' face immediately contorted in fury, his upper lip curling in a sneer.

"Well Mr Pevensie you may return home and remain home until you learn to behave as befits a young civilised gentleman and not a brazen petulant whelp," Headmaster Andrews' voice was filled with deadly vehemence despite its hoarseness.

Peter felt anger rise in him in a red hot spike, his pride bristled and poked at as his eyes flashed dangerously.

"You as well Mr Berrington. Both of you are henceforth suspended until further notice taking effect immediately," Headmaster Andrews seemed to collapse back into the leather armchair, breathing heavily; wheezing breaths rattling out of his aged body.

"B-but Sir…?!" James immediately began to protest, his eyes wide with alarm.

"You are both dismissed," Headmaster Andrews' announced shortly and callously.

James stared for a moment more in open-mouthed shock.

But Peter didn't wait; he wouldn't demean himself to try and beg for Headmaster Andrews to reconsider.

Peter turned on his heel sharply, stalking from the room with blazing eyes.

He had barely made it three strides down the now deserted corridor before he felt himself unceremoniously hauled back by his collar and slammed back into the brick wall.

James Berrington's face loomed over him for a moment; storm grey eyes and face covered in a multitude of freckles with a mop of flame red hair that fell into his eyes.

James smashed a thick arm against Peter's throat.

However before Peter even had a chance to react James' face was gone from before him and the hold against him vanished.

James staggered slightly before he steadied himself against the opposite wall.

"Edmund Pevensie!" James spat vehemently as he eyed Edmund standing beside Peter.

"I should have known – brothers in arms," James sneered.

Edmund immediately went to Peter's side reaching out a supporting hand, concern clear on his face.

Peter shrugged off the brotherly hand, actually directing a fierce glare towards Edmund which was met with much confusion.

"You'll pay for this," James threatened darkly as he glared directly at Peter.

Peter rolled his eyes, "Go home James."

Edmund sighed tiredly for his brother's voice wasn't conciliatory in an attempt to avoid another fight but rather it was condescending combined with Peter's look of superiority completed the act.

It seemed High King Peter the Magnificent was making another appearance.

James looked like he was going to attempt another round and Edmund shifted slightly hoping to intervene before things got out of hand.

"For God's sake, Peter leave it!" Edmund half-pleaded exasperated and annoyed in equal measures.

However any altercation was actually averted by the chime of the clock announcing the end of the school day.

The doorways along the hall immediately sprang open, loud and raucous chatter and laughter rose to the very roof beams, the thunder of footsteps as crowds of young boys spilled out into the hallway.

James was swiftly lost amongst the stream of countless people and Edmund hastily jostled Peter along down the corridor.

The Pevensie brothers as much carried along by the current of bodies all heading in the same direction spilled out the front doors of the school and into the weak October sun and chilled air.

"Here," Edmund muttered, shoving Peter's coat and satchel into his hands.

Peter accepted them, shrugging on the school colours blazer before slinging his book-bag over his shoulder.

They walked in silence for a few moments; Edmund glancing out of the side of his eye at Peter while Peter brooded silently.

"So what was the damage?" Edmund finally asked after they had managed to disentangle themselves from the throng of boys all spilling out the school gates.

The corners of Peter's lips lifted in a smug grin, "I thought you would have seen the black eye James was wearing," Peter replied.

Edmund rolled his eyes, "I meant with the old goat Andrews?" Edmund clarified.

Peter's expression immediately darkened, the muscles bunching in his jaw visible as he offered no answer.

Edmund sighed thinking how he might possibly have to beat the answer out of his stubborn elder brother; though knowing Peter he would certainly put up a fight to retain it.

"They're all imbeciles," Peter suddenly spat vehemently, so much so that Edmund frowned deeply, troubled at his brother's words.

He had known that Peter was becoming more and more frustrated as the days passed. They had been mere children when the war had begun but now as they got older and more of their friends enlisted for the on-going war, many of them lying about their ages Edmund could see the restlessness grow in his brother.

Longing for a time when he would go off to battle to defend all that he loved, for the thrill of the fight, the recognition that he had been so used to receiving, the praise and the glory.

Steadily the fights had become more frequent; Edmund didn't know if it was Peter trying to look for something in them, or whether he was still clinging to what he had once been, unable to relinquish it and behave like the boy that he was supposed to be.

Peter began to speak of Narnia more then, but the wistful tone and fond smile had that he had begun with had slowly been replaced with clenched fists and bitter impatience.

Edmund and Peter turned down onto the familiar street leading to the train station and Edmund out of the corner of his eye caught Peter rubbing at his jaw with a slight wince.

"Is it bad?" Edmund said trying to crane in a look.

"Alright Mother Hen," Peter waved a dismissive hand airily, "it's nothing."

Edmund furrowed his brow but said nothing, he didn't need to. He could already see the blossoming red and purple on the curve of Peter's jaw along with the slight swelling.

Peter would no doubt refuse any treatment offered, forever insisting that he had endured worse.

For one who proved that he had a sharp mind and extensive intelligence as evidenced by the Golden Years of his rule as High King Peter where he had overseen many diplomatic trade agreements, unions with other lands, victorious battle strategies, just rulings…Peter could display some very severe bouts of pig-headed stubbornness and arrogant pride that led him to behave like a conceited fool and make idiotic decisions.

The only problem Edmund considered, was that such behaviour was becoming a more and more common occurrence with Peter.

"So what did Andrews say? – what is your punishment?" Edmund pressed.

Peter scowled at him over his shoulder as they entered the train station.

Any conversation swiftly became impossible in the following minutes as the brothers fought their way through the crowds to buy their tickets and then go to their usual spot to meet the girls.

As soon as they reached the familiar bench Peter slung his bag off his shoulder, dropping it carelessly onto the platform beside the bench.

"Come on Peter – you're going to have to tell me sometime!"

"Oh really? I don't see how it is any of your business!"

"My bus…?! Of course it's my business – you're my brother!"

Peter rolled his eyes skyward for a moment as he exhaled noisily through his nose.

"I got suspended Ed alright!"

"You got what! – Mum is going to kill you!" Peter groaned as Susan stood before him, looking down at him in annoyance, her brows drawn down in fierce disapproval.

"What's happened?" Lucy appeared at Susan's side, her gaze flitting between her brothers expectantly.

Edmund glanced to Peter briefly before answering her.

"Peter got suspended for fighting with James Berrington again on school grounds."

"What on earth were you thinking Peter?!" Susan exclaimed, throwing her hands up in the air in exasperation.

Peter stood abruptly, brushing past Susan to walk a few spaces and gain some distance between himself and his siblings.

Peter looked forward unseeing as a bitter taste rose in his mouth.

How could his siblings walk about these streets seamlessly melting once more into life in England?

They were royalty; kings and queens of legends that saved a whole kingdom from the tyranny of the White Witch!

War was raging all around him and he was stuck trading punches with idiots like James Berrington.

Every insult or passing joke was like a personal jibe at his uselessness in this world. Little did Peter realise or want to acknowledge that he attracted such unwelcome attention because of his own insistence to behave so superiorly to those around him.

"Peter!" snapping his head around at the call of his name Peter had his bag shoved once more roughly into his hand from Edmund.

Edmund nodded towards the train that stood waiting, passengers huddling though the narrow doorways in shuffling crowds.

Sighing Peter grabbed that blasted satchel and joined the monotonous moving to board the train.

Once aboard the crowds meant they were only able to secure two seats; which both brothers gave up to their sisters.

Lucy looked up concernedly at her eldest brother, worry in her gaze as she eyed the bruise beginning to colour the angle of his jaw.

Peter caught her anxious look and smiled kindly at her, flicking her nose playfully. Lucy grinned back at him.

"Don't worry Lu, I've had much worse," Peter reassured.

Edmund rolled his eyes; predictable he thought.

Susan was not so silent in her disapproval, "that is beside the point Peter! What are you going to tell mum when you get back – after you promised her no more fighting?!"

Peter rolled his eyes as he ground his teeth together in poorly concealed frustration.

"You make it sound as though I _planned _to get into a fight today Susan!" Peter retorted.

"You make it sound as though fighting were your only option!"

"Oh I forget," Peter bit sarcastically, "you would have _me _swallow every insult."

Susan turned her head away immediately as she gave a bitter laugh before she spoke, "everyone that so much as looks at you insults you Peter!"

"Well Susan…"

"Stop it!" Lucy cried suddenly.

The two fighting elder siblings fell silent, both looking suitably chastised at least.

"Lucy's right this isn't helping anything," Edmund stepped in quietly, his reproving gaze lingering longest on Peter.

"You will have to tell mum though Peter," Edmund reiterated.

Peter sighed deeply as he closed his eyes for a brief moment, "I know," he admitted quietly.

* * *

I realise Peter may seem a bit OTT in his character but I just wanted to stress this from the beginning.

Constructive criticism/ love it / hate it etc. – Drop me a review letting me know what you think? :)


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two;

The four Pevensie children spilled into the hallway of their home, rubbing together chilled hands as coats were shrugged off and hung up.

"Oh good children you're home, I…Peter! What happened to your face?" Helen Pevensie immediately went to her eldest son, her face full of concern, eyes crinkled with worry as she raised a hand gingerly to hover over the swollen bruise on Peter's jaw.

Susan arched an expectant brow at Peter nodding meaningfully towards their mother.

Lucy chewed on her bottom lip nervously as Edmund watched the proceedings warily.

Peter looked over his mother's shoulder at his evidently waiting and expectant siblings.

Peter clenched his jaw tightly ignoring the twinge of tender pain at the action as he narrowed his eyes at them.

He hated being cornered into anything; he was a King and as such would make his decisions on when to take action when he saw fit.

But Peter read the look of Susan's face; if he didn't tell their mother now she would.

Peter glared darkly at her before returning his gaze back to their mother.

"Mum I have got something to tell you," Peter began slowly and reluctantly.

Susan scoffed irascibly as she rolled her eyes.

Their mother glanced over her shoulder, taking in the tense poses of her three younger children before looking warily to Peter once more, a dreaded suspicion in her eyes.

"Come on Susan, Lu," Edmund called pointedly, holding the door to the living room open and gesturing for his sisters to go on in.

Susan hesitated for a moment before relenting, clearly washing her hands of the situation; it was Peter's problem now.

Lucy followed her after flashing Peter a troubled smile.

Edmund nodded once in acknowledgement to Peter's grateful look before he too turned and went into the living room, shutting the door after him.

Helen Pevensie looked up to her son, waiting reluctantly for what she now knew was coming.

"Mum…I got into a fight today at school," Peter confessed quietly, his gaze trained on the small stretch of ground between them.

Helen sighed heavily and no sound made Peter feel more guilty.

"Peter…" she began tiredly. "I've told you time and time again to just ignore them."

Peter shuffled from foot to foot awkwardly for a silent moment before he took a deep breath, glancing up to make sure she was ready for the rest.

"Mr Wilson caught me fighting…"

"Lieutenant Wilson you mean?" his mother interrupted.

"Yes," Peter confirmed less than enthusiastically.

"Oh Peter!" Helen exclaimed, "Lieutenant Wilson is such a good man!"

Peter resisted the urge to roll his eyes, "of course it was straight to Headmaster Andrews office…" Peter looked up, pausing for a considerable moment.

Helen Pevensie nodded, encouraging him to finish his tale.

"Go on Peter," she urged.

Peter sighed, "he suspended me indefinitely."

Helen Pevensie's eyes closed as she let out a long wavering breath, "oh Peter what have you done?" she breathed quietly.

She sighed, "Who was it this time?"

Peter rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, "James Berrington," he grumbled under his breath.

His mother's frown deepened considerably when she heard the name, "again?" she questioned sternly; though it was more a statement than a question.

It was Peter's turn to sigh, "Mum you don't understand – he provoked me!"

"No you're right – I don't understand Peter. I don't understand why my intelligent young son seems to do nothing but fight these days!" his mother's voice wavered and when Peter looked up he could see the unshed tears swimming in his mother's eyes.

"Mum…" Peter began softly.

"No Peter! Now you will go over to the Berrington's house and you will apologise to James and put this silly feud to bed once and for all!"

"What? Mum – you…you can't be serious!?"

"Peter Pevensie I am deadly serious. Now…" Helen Pevensie's hand shot out as she seized the collar of his once crisp white shirt now dirtied and spotted with blood; James' after Peter had most likely knocked out one of his teeth.

"Change your clothes and then you are to go straight over to the Berrington's house and apologise to James."

Peter stared at his mother agape. Go – to the _Berrington's _house; _apologise to James._

"But mum," Peter gave an incredulous laugh that held no humour, "I did nothing wrong!"

"I don't care Peter. I want this fighting to stop once and for all. You _will_ go over to the Berrington's – and you _will_ apologise to James. Am I understood young man?" his mother's tone was one of the sternest she had ever used with him, a fierce light in her eyes.

Peter ground his teeth together, his shoulders and back completely rigid, "Yes," Peter ground the word out with a lot of difficulty.

Helen Pevensie sighed as she nodded, "good," and her expression melted into one of motherly concern and gentle reproach.

"I only want what's best for you Peter," she told him quietly.

Peter nodded stiffly as his mother gave him a small sympathetic smile; resigned to the fact that he would not be best pleased with what she was forcing him to do.

…

Peter tore through his room like a hurricane and with the noise of one too as he angrily stomped across the floorboards, tearing open the doors of his wardrobe to tear out a new shirt at random.

Just as he was finishing buttoning up the buttons of his shirt there was a hesitant rap at his bedroom door followed by someone sticking their head in the now slightly ajar door.

Edmund eyed Peter curiously before Peter snapped at him.

"I have to go apologise – to _him!"_

"Who?"

Peter glowered at Edmund for a moment, "James Berrington! – Keep up Ed!" Peter berated.

Edmund shook his head, a wary look in his eyes, "do you think that's such a good idea Peter?"

"It's not my idea!" Peter balked, "do you really think I would apologise to James Berrington of all people?! No…it's mum, she says it will stop the fighting once and for all."

"So you've told her then? – About being suspended I mean?"

"Oh well done Ed, you certainly worked out that mystery," Peter mocked, as he brushed by Edmund and out of his room agitatedly, the door slamming in his exit.

Edmund ignored the bitter jibe as he followed Peter as the elder brother stormed down the stairs.

Susan was in the hall, giggling softly as she spoke in hushed tones, fingers toying with the coil of the telephone wire. She hurriedly ended the conversation, slamming the phone back into its cradle just as Peter and Edmund reached the bottom of the stairs.

Peter rolled his eyes; no doubt another of Susan's _friends. _

"Where are you going?" Susan demanded suddenly as Peter took his coat of the peg in the hall and donned it swiftly.

"I'm going to apologise to James Berrington, the boy I was fighting with today and got suspended for," Peter answered truthfully, as he hastily did the buttons up on his coat with an unnecessary violence.

Susan's full bottom lip protruded in a perturbed pout with a furrowed brow.

"I don't think that's a good idea Peter," Susan remarked seriously.

"Is this not what you wanted?" Peter accused her sharply.

Susan scoffed, turning quickly on her heel.

"Grow up Peter!" she called over her shoulder before she disappeared into the living room again.

Peter had the resist the urge to laugh outright at that; how many times had Susan been warning him to 'grow-down' and to act the age he was now in England and now…now she wanted him to 'grow-up'?!

Edmund sighed tiredly from his side, looking to Peter exasperated.

"Where's Lu?" Peter asked suddenly.

"Helping mum with dinner," Edmund answered immediately already starting to shrug on his coat.

Peter gave him a strange look, "what are you doing?"

"Going with you," Edmund answered casually.

Peter gave a short laugh, "No you're not Ed."

"Come on Peter! What if some of James' goons are there?"

"Well then I will take care of them myself," Peter answered confidently.

Edmund gave Peter a long look but the elder merely arched a brow at him fixing him with that cool cobalt stare that had become so common recently; that Peter used to shut out everyone without even knowing it, refusing to ask for help no matter what.

Edmund sighed in defeat as Peter turned sharply and walked out the door. Edmund didn't follow.

…

Peter made his way briskly along the streets; a frosty chill to the air. The shorter winter days meant less hours of light and as such the sky was already darkening.

Peter sighed irritably; apologising would do nothing but…his mother had asked him to and he said he would. And besides his mother hadn't specified what he had to apologise _for. _

Peter found the house easily; he only knew the address because he had seen it scrawled on a letter that had fallen on _his_ desk. Then James had the cheek to accuse Peter of snooping around in his belongings. That slight of course had not gone unpunished and it was the cause of one of many fights the boys had engaged in.

The house itself was cramped in a line of terraced houses with small square gardens.

Inhaling deeply in resignation once more Peter strode up to the door and knocked it firmly and sharply.

Inside a cacophony of sound burst alive that was audible even through the door; there was a scrabbling that was followed by a barking; _great,_ they have a dog Peter bemoaned.

A baby's wail shattered the air from somewhere in the house and then there was a hurried thumping as someone descended the stairs Peter assumed.

The door was torn open but it wasn't James as Peter was hoping, to get this over with as quickly as possible.

With one cursory look Peter acknowledged that she had to be at least James' sister; same flame red hair, face of freckles and slate grey eyes.

"Is James Berrington there?" Peter asked politely.

"No – he's out," she answered shortly.

"Do you have any idea when you expect him back?" Peter asked, warily eyeing the slavering dog that she was currently fighting to keep in the house, blocking its path with her legs alone.

"Wilson back – go! Shoo!" the girl hissed as she gave the dog a nudge back into the house with her leg.

Peter arched an amused brow. The dog was called _Wilson, _Peter wondered if it was coincidence.

The girl looked up again, "sorry he's just curious," she apologised with an easy smile, gesturing to the dog that despite her best attempts had its head wedged between her leg and the door, looking up at Peter with huge brown eyes and its red tongue lolling out to the side.

"Erm…no, I've no idea when Jimmy'll be back – I'll tell him you called if you want?" she suggested helpfully with another bright smile.

Peter sighed, this was just _perfect _he thought sourly.

"If you could tell him Peter Pevensie called," Peter said, not really paying attention to the girl and more concerned with the dog that seemed determined to knock the slight girl to the ground in its eagerness to get out.

"_Peter Pevensie?_"

Peter's gaze snapped up as he was taken aback by the cold vehemence in the girl's tone and the way her slate grey eyes narrowed, two red spots appearing on her cheeks.

Peter's brow furrowed in confusion, "yes. I'm Peter Pevensie," he confirmed, "can you tell James that I called I would…"

Peter never got to finish his words for at that moment something happened that Peter had most certainly not anticipated.

The harsh ground rose up to meet him swiftly, as pain ruptured once more across the overly tender spot on his jaw as a result of the punch the girl in front of him had just landed him.

What made it worse was that as he groaned in agony on the cold ground was that the next thing he felt was a wet slobbery muzzle nudging against his face.

Peter pushed the drooling dog away from him as he scrambled to his feet with as much dignity as he could muster.

Peter looked to her, his blue eyes blazing with anger and shock, his cheeks emblazoned red in embarrassment.

"You alright there Ella? This young lad here ain't causing you no bother is he?"

Peter whipped around indignantly to see an elder man with a weather beaten face and overalls paused at the bottom of the garden, his bright eyes flitting from concern for the girl to disdain as he looked at Peter.

"No, I'm fine don't worry Mr Bates – I can handle myself," the girl replied casually with a bright smile and a wave.

The man chuckled good-naturedly and easily returned the smile, before with one last wary glance directed at a fuming Peter he continued on his way down the street.

Peter returned his fierce glare back towards the girl who stood nonchalantly with a victorious smirk on her face.

If she was a boy…Peter let that thought trail off, she wasn't and so he could not in good conscience wipe that smirk from her face by returning her favour to him.

Peter rubbed a hand across the doubly tender spot now on his jaw, "why did you do that for?" Peter demanded through gritted teeth, a few locks of fair hair falling across his eyes.

An eyebrow shot up as the girl answered immediately, "That was for my twin! Do you know how many times I've had to fix Jimmy up after you and he have had a scrap?!" she demanded, folding her arms angrily across her chest.

Peter almost scoffed, he should have known – James Berrington's twin sister.

"Well I'm sure my sisters wouldn't dream of doing the same if your brother was to call at our door," Peter hissed at her, struggling to keep his composure because really it was frustrating when she was looking so damn smug and knowing there was little he could do about it.

"I'm not your sister though," she answered bluntly with a careless shrug.

Peter inhaled deeply as he straightened his spine, preparing to turn sharply on his heel.

High King Peter never ran away from a fight but he acknowledged that this was one he wasn't going to win and he would have liked to leave with as much of his dignity intact as possible, having just been floored by a girl a good head smaller than him

Now that he came to notice it…not only that but a wisp of a girl really; she was all gangly limbs, her clothes hanging off her as though they were a size too big.

Peter groaned inwardly; how on earth had had been floored by one punch from – _her?!_

It was the shock and surprise of it Peter hurriedly reasoned to soothe his wounded pride.

Peter offered her no other words and turned to leave, still being able to see that cloying smirk on her lips.

But then Peter paused as he found his way…barred.

Wilson, the great big oaf of a dog was lying across the path.

Peter was in no way going to attempt to step over it only for the dog to no doubt scramble to his feet and knock him to the ground. He had already been floored by a girl today, he wasn't about to add dog to the list.

Reluctantly and practically seething Peter turned his head stiffly, "call off your dog," he ordered.

"Ha!" she laughed in exclamation and Peter was able to just catch a flash of red hair before she disappeared back into the house shutting the door firmly after her.

* * *

Thanks to followers / & / favourites; Goalphabeticalorder, HungerGames100, KatDawn80 & bethsong.95 and especial thanks to bethsong.95 for reviewing! :D


End file.
